


Singularity

by ax100



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, M/M, Uliro Week 2017, late post oops, ulaz whump that absolutely no one asked for, with a happy ending? vote now on your phones!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-31
Updated: 2017-08-17
Packaged: 2018-11-07 08:02:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11054751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ax100/pseuds/ax100
Summary: The frustration of failure was starting to bear down on them all, staining their words a cruel color and sharpening their tongues to a knife's edge. And even if Ulaz was much more equipped to handle loss and frustration than the young Paladins, that did not mean Shiro's absence did not affect him.He hides it well, from all except one.(late entry for Uliro Week Day 2: Dreams/Memories)





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, y'all! Ax here. I promised myself I'd participate in Uliro Week but I had finals the whole month (not even kidding, wish I was) and then promptly got hella sick. I'm still hella sick, actually, but I managed to bang out this fic (well, half of it) so quick, I'm actually quite surprised myself. Still, it's late, as it was supposed to be for Day 2 (Dreams/Memories). And it's not...IMMEDIATELY Uliro. Lots of set-up going on, and the other characters appear. But in any case, I hope you guys still enjoy! :)

It had been weeks since Shiro went missing. Weeks of dead ends and false leads and mere vestiges of what might have been clues, had they gotten there in time.

Time. The one thing that they didn’t have, because with each passing moment, the hope of ever finding their leader—their friend—dwindled even more. With each second, each tick, Shiro slipped further and further away from them.

It was trying.

Each of them had their own demons that kept them up at night, but these days, they knew—they all knew—that there was just one nightmarish possibility that kept fueling them to keep going, to keep pushing the limits of their biological capabilities. It was ever present, tugging on their minds, but never vocalized.

Until today, when it was.

“What if…” Hunk meekly started, his voice uncharacteristically small, hours into staring at the screen of code they had gotten from the Black Lion at the time of Shiro’s disappearance. “What if he isn’t out there?”

The room went ice-cold as everyone stopped what they were doing and looked at him.

Keith was the first one to react. “What?” he practically growled from where he was standing next to Allura. He stepped forward, right through the holographic star map on which he had been helping her pinpoint planets that hadn’t yielded anything useful to their search. “What are you saying?”

Hunk ducked his head, his back still faced to them. “Guys, we’ve been searching for how long now? One month? Two months? And we’re still where we started. All our leads have given us nothing. What if this is all just a wild goose chase? What if he isn’t out there? And even if we did find him, it’s been so long. What if we’re too late? What if he’s been floating dead in space all this time?” He took a stuttering breath, scrubbing his hands over his face. Looking up at the screen of code again, he continued softly, “What if he’s just…gone?”

Keith’s thundering footsteps were harsh and loud against the backdrop of gut-clenching silence. He stormed toward the control panel and grabbed Hunk’s shoulder, spinning him around with a concerning amount of force. Hunk’s eyes were ringed dark with exhaustion. “Shiro’s out there!” he yelled, his face pinched into the very picture of anger. “He’s out there, and we’re gonna find him!” The hand he had on Hunk’s shoulder removed itself, only for it to fist into the collar of Hunk’s shirt, accompanied by its counterpart. Keith yanked him down so they were staring nose-to-nose, and shook him as he continued on his tirade, his hands shaking, his voice breaking: “He’s out there, don’t you dare tell me he isn’t! He’s out there and we’re letting him down because it’s been _so long_ and we _still_ haven’t fucking! Found him yet!”

“Keith—“ Hunk tried to say, his hands closing around pale wrists, but the other did not relent.

“He’d never give up on any of us, but if you want to wash your hands of all this, then _fine_ , Hunk! **_Just fuck off!_** ” With the grip he already had on his shirt, Keith shoved him, making Hunk stumble back into the console. He growled and pitched forward, his hands curled into fists so tight that the knuckles were a stark white, but was held in place by tan arms wrapping around his torso and midsection.

“Keith!” Lance cried out, adjusting his footing so he could pull the other boy back. “Get a grip, man!”

“Let go!” Keith thrashed about wildly. “Hunk, he—“

“Keith, stop! We’re all upset, okay?!” Lance tried to reason with him as Pidge ran up to restrain Keith from the front, blocking his path. “Just calm down for a sec, bud!”

All of a sudden, another person, almost silent, stepped up next to Lance. It was Ulaz. “Perhaps I can be of help?” he asked, his calm demeanor almost comically out of place in the tense atmosphere.

Lance didn’t really have time to think, as Keith had almost broken out of him and Pidge’s grasp. “Yeah, sure, whatever! Just do it!” he said, and with that, Ulaz’s arm shot out, his hand grasping the back of Keith’s neck.

“What—“ Lance protested. But the words died on his tongue as he suddenly felt Keith’s body go stock still in his arms, then slowly slacken, like a balloon deflating.

“Galra have glands on either side of the neck that secrete a hormone that forces the muscles to unlock and relax,” Ulaz explained simply, as Keith gradually became dead weight in Lance’s arms. “Exerting pressure on these glands can hasten the production of the hormone.”

“That’s…useful,” Lance replied lamely as Ulaz removed his hand. He slung a now unconscious Keith’s arm around his shoulders and turned his attention to Hunk, who was still standing against the control panel, looking visibly shaken up, almost queasy. His eyes were dazed and glassy as he stared at Keith’s limp form, and his jaw was set, like he was fighting back tears. “You okay there, buddy?”

“I’m fine,” he replied too quickly, his voice unsteady.

“Well,” Coran spoke up quietly from beside Hunk, settling a reassuring hand on the young man’s back. “If there’s anything that we can get from what just happened, it’s that we’re all exhausted. It’s best that we all rest for today.”

“But we’re so close,” Pidge said with no heat, but nearly despairing. “We could get a breakthrough any minute now, Coran. We have to keep looking.”

“A breakthrough will remain a breakthrough, whether it happens today or tomorrow,” he said, approaching Lance to take up Keith’s other arm. “It’s easy to forget about your own health and wellbeing when you’re so young. It’s often useful, but you’ve all been going at it for so long that it’s starting to be counterproductive.”

“It’s not a bad thing,” he continued, regarding each one of them with open concern, “to take the time to care for yourselves.”

Although everyone seemed to want to protest, none of them had the energy to do so. And on some base level, they knew Coran was right. Not even Allura and Pidge, who often had to be wrestled away from their work, put up a fight. Each of them slowly powered down their consoles and left the bridge.

Coran gave Ulaz a curt nod as he and Lance took their leave to carry Keith back to his room, a signal that could’ve meant anything, but Ulaz got the feeling that gratitude was the sentiment that underlined the gesture. He gave a nod in return and shut down his own console, where he had been monitoring Galra communications for any intel about Prince Lotor, before he, too, departed. The bridge became shrouded in darkness as he exited.

 

 

Frustration was bound to wear down even the most hardheaded or optimistic of people; this much was growing worryingly clear, if the events just now were anything to go by. The Paladins were at their wits’ end. It showed in their actions, which had grown hasty and inelegant, and it stained their words, sharpening their tongues and putting an edge to their voices that would have been absent under any normal circumstance.

But these were not normal circumstances, and the four young Paladins and Allura were much less equipped to handle such a strain than were Coran, who had the advantage of age over all of them, and Ulaz, who had been trained extensively by the Blade of Marmora in the art of patience.

But that didn’t mean it didn’t affect him.

Ulaz’s spirit, too, had started to wane. They spent every waking moment searching for Shiro, to no avail. Failure, day in and day out—it was bound to beat them all down at some point, even him. And at those lowest points, Ulaz found that the most efficient way to recuperate was to get away from it all.

And so, Ulaz had taken to walking around the castle when everything just got to be too much. It actually wasn’t a new habit, by any means; he went on these walks often, the silence permitting him the opportunity to collect his thoughts and jump back into the fray refreshed. To him, they had become a form of meditation.

Shiro often used to join him as well. They would roam the halls at odd hours, Shiro’s two-tone hair still damp from a shower—a tell-tale sign that he’d been woken up by a nightmare. They wouldn’t speak for the most part, but the warmth that they afforded each other in their proximity was always welcome.

They were good memories.

Tonight, however, as Ulaz made his way through these halls, those memories caused the solitude he often reveled in to feel more and more like loneliness. Each silent step he took _(step after step, beat by beat, like the steady rhythm of a heart he’d pressed his ear against many times)_ just magnified his fervent wish for that warmth to return, to come back so he may hold it in his arms again, clutch it against his chest and fall asleep in peace, knowing that his mate, _his Shiro_ , was alive and safe with him.

For here, there was only the hiss of air as it circulated around the ship, the hum of the engines as they took them to their next destination, a false sense of lull to distract from the very real possibilities (of death, of dying, of loss), from the very real truth—

\--that Ulaz was here and Shiro was not, and Keith’s armor glinted black instead of red in all the ways that made everyone’s skin crawl.

Ulaz found he could hardly bear these thoughts. He considered returning to his room even if he knew he would just spend the next few hours lying awake in bed (something he was reasonably sure that the others were doing as well), but at that moment, he felt something.

He paused in his steps, looking around. But there was nothing but him and the hum of the ship. And yet, he could feel it. A presence. A consciousness brushing against his own. Disembodied, but _real_.

 _Follow me,_ it seemed to tell him.

 _Who are you?_ he asked, barely stifling the desire to outright ask if it was Shiro, lest his hopes be dashed.

_Just follow, and you will see._

He didn’t know what to follow, exactly, but he let his feet carry him, as they seemed to know where to go. With wide, hurried strides, he walked a great distance; vargas seemed to pass, but he knew that in reality, they were but mere doboshes. His wandering brought him through passageways and corridors that varied in their familiarity until it led him to large metallic double doors. He knew where they led, and he slowed as uncertainty began to pool in his gut.

 _Enter,_ the Black Lion instructed him.

 

 

The Black Lion’s hangar was eerily quiet. This deep into the ship, not even the whistling air or the whirr of the engines could be heard. Ulaz had always considered himself quiet with near-silent footfalls, but in such a place, every step he made sounded like thunder, each breath he took a tempest. The air itself in this chamber seemed to still as he approached the Black Lion, majestic and magnificent as she sat perched, looking upon all those who entered.

Her eyes were a dull, lifeless gray as he stopped in front of her, facing her with the same amount of uncertainty he had when he first realized where he had ended up. The short trip from the door to the center of the chamber did not alleviate it any. He was transfixed as he gazed up at her, feeling no small amount of awe. He did not know how to proceed. After great consideration, he finally spoke.

 _“I am here,”_ he said in Old Galra, the kind that the castle’s translators were not configured to pick up on.

The kind they would have used 10,000 years ago.

The kind that her original Paladin would have used.

 _You are learned,_ she commented.

Perhaps she was looking for disclosure of some sort from this line of conversation, but he was not as open as the humans in this regard. To volunteer information about himself so easily was not becoming of a Blade. Instead, with his voice echoing within the walls of the hangar, he asked, _“Why did you bring me here?”_ He closed his eyes and accompanied the question with images of Shiro, though he was not sure if they would reach her, as he was not her Paladin.

 He needn’t have worried though, it seemed, as new images flashed through his mind as well, ones of an empty cockpit and a bayard left behind. Shiro was not here.

_Then why?_

His eyes shot open at the sound of mechanical movement. He looked up to see the Black Lion—her heavy, weathered armor gliding smoothly over perfectly engineered joints—place her front paws forward, almost clipping him under their weight. He jumped back when the shadow of her descending maw darkened over him, and narrowly missed getting flattened when she finally settled her jaw on the ground. Amusement seemed to twinkle in her eyes, now the same color as his own.

_I would not have hurt you._

_It is better to be safe._

_The two of you are more alike than you think._ Before he could ask who she was referring to, another image flashed through his mind—

 

* * *

 

_“Turn around!” Shiro shouted as he tugged at her controls, not knowing what the hell was going on, where the hell they were headed. “That’s an order!”_

 

* * *

 

 -- _“A memory?”_ he asked.

 _Come inside,_ she said simply, before opening her mouth. The laser that usually rested there was now retracted into the roof of her mouth, and the panel at her throat slid open with a quiet hiss to reveal the entrance into the cockpit.

Ulaz stood still, rooted to the ground. Conflicting thoughts and feelings swirled within him like a dark storm. On the one hand, he had been asked, quite explicitly, by the Black Lion, who was clearly a sentient being and knew better than any of them what was allowable and what was not, to enter. On the other hand, he was no Paladin. He was not Shiro. Not by any means, not by any measure. That cockpit, he had only been in there when her pilot was present. To step in there now, in his distinct absence, felt like treason and trespass of the highest order, like violation Ulaz couldn’t even stomach.

The Black Lion seemed to sense his dilemma and reached out to him once again, connecting his consciousness with her own. She sent him a wave of reassuring energy, trying to tell him, _This is fine. He would have wanted this._

With tentative steps, he entered.

 

 

The first thought that Ulaz had when he sat down on the pilot’s chair was that it was quite comfortable, which surprised him. Shiro was much smaller than him, and it didn’t really make sense for the seat to be that much bigger than its pilot.

And then, like an insidious virus, the curious thought evolved into a dreadful realization:

This very seat was Zarkon’s throne before the Empire existed.

He almost recoiled from the thought, but the Black Lion sent him a wave of sympathy this time, showing him another memory.

 

* * *

 

_Trouble was brewing outside; that much was obvious, as explosions racked the castle, loosening the debris and dust that had gathered over the millennia. But the heavy doors that led to her alcove drew back slowly, and a scrawny little thing dressed in her Paladin’s armor came into view, his eyes wide and full of wonder as he set his gaze on the Black Lion—his Lion—for the first time._

 

* * *

 

_He is my Paladin now._

It was a comfort to know that she thought as much.

 _And what of the one who pilots you now?_ he asked.

A beat passed, in which he feared he had offended her, but in the next moment, another vision:

 

* * *

 

_Out on the clearing some distance away, her Paladin, injured and exhausted and barely conscious, was fighting off a pack of rock lizards. He was clearly losing, as the vile creatures tossed him around like a child’s plaything and knocked him around as if he weighed nothing. She could see the bright purple glow of his prosthetic hand as he tried to defend himself, matched only by the glow emanating from the wound Zarkon’s witch inflicted upon him, and knew that this was an ordeal he would not be able to survive._

_She wished for nothing more than to come to his defense. And yet, her own injuries from their battle with her original Paladin prevented her from doing so. She, too, was much too weak to move on her own. It would take the combined energy of her and a pilot to manage it._

_At that moment, the Red Paladin came within her field of vision. He paused in his steps as he saw what was happening, before turning around and speeding towards her._

_“I know I’m not Shiro,” he said, placing a hand on her snout. “But he’s in trouble. We need to help him.”_

_The Red Paladin spoke to her steadily, collected despite the bad situation. It was impressive, as it was not hard to imagine the other Paladins panicking and freezing up, had they been in his position._

_Despite that, she could see the pleading look in his eyes, his fear that she would not allow him to enter. He knew, and he understood—the Lions were not their tools. They were living beings, whose trust would have to be earned if they were to work together. He knew, and he respected that._

_He took a great deal after her Paladin._

_She opened the entrance to the cockpit._

 

* * *

 

 _“Shiro is in trouble,”_ Ulaz said, the words rolling over his tongue and settling like a thick, viscous liquid. Understanding dawned upon him, like the slow-setting wakefulness after a long sleep.

_Keith is the Red Lion’s Paladin, just as Shiro is mine. These identities cannot be taken away from them. They are a part of who they are._

Ulaz felt a smile tug at the edges of his lips, relief washing over him. _Your loyalty is unparalleled. I’ve heard Shiro’s stories._

 _The Black Paladin earned my trust, slowly, and with great hardship. The bond we now share is unshakable,_ she answered proudly. Then, she continued, somberly now, _It pains me to be apart from him, just as I am sure it pains you as well._

The ache that reached down into the very depths of Ulaz’s soul throbbed anew in response. It was true, so very true.

 _Why did you bring me here?_ he asked again, to distract himself from the feeling more than anything else.

_You are hurting. I wish to assist you._

His thoughts came to a stop. _How so?_

She did not offer him any words this time, but a soft growl. Then, through their shared connection, he felt warmth bloom and seep in, slowly, steadily—a trickle that gradually built up until it flowed unobstructed into him, spreading out to the farthest reaches of his mind. It poured itself into the cracks left behind by fear and worry and sealed them with new hope, reached into the hidden crevices of his heart and filled the void there until it spilled over with joy, with love. It was a force that felt almost solid, somehow—like he could take this warmth, hold it in his arms, clutch it against his chest and fall asleep in peace, with the steady beating of a heart pressed against his ear once more.

And just as quickly as it came, the feeling disappeared. He gasped as the warmth retracted, leaving the cracks and crevices and holes deserted once again. He’d never felt emptier in his life.

 _“Quintessence,”_ he whispered in realization to the still air around him. _“Shiro’s Quintessence.”_ The Black Lion growled her assent.

Ulaz sat there for a while, a bit stunned. He could barely believe that he was able to recognize it for what it was, as, prior to this, he only had a largely academic knowledge of what Quintessence was. He knew it was a valuable form of energy—the most precious kind, at that—but after feeling it run through his veins, lighting up the parts of himself that ran so deep he himself didn’t know of their existence, he now _understood_. It wasn’t just energy, but life force itself—infinite, all-encompassing. The thing that made something into itself—that made _Shiro_ into who he was. And Ulaz had been shown but a small portion of it.

It made him sick to the stomach.

 _What is wrong?_ the Black Lion asked, sensing his sudden distress.

 _“Shiro is not here,”_ Ulaz reminded her gravely, biting out each word past the bile rising in his throat, reciting the words aloud because they were real, they were **true** _._ He suddenly grew hyperaware of where he was, and how he didn’t belong in this place.

 _He is not here,_ he said through their connection that he had no business having, _and this is invasive. I should not be here. I must go._ He rose up on shaky legs and made to leave.

There was a subtle tugging on his consciousness yet again, as the Black Lion tried to pull him back. But he fought against it this time, drowning her out with thoughts of how this act was practically violation. He was not allowed to be in there, much less engage in something as intimate as feel Shiro’s Quintessence. It was a kindness Ulaz did not deserve, because Shiro was not here to give it. Shiro was not here to permit him inside the Black Lion, Shiro was not here to fill up the cracks and crevices born of fear that yawned open with pain every time he so much as breathed. Shiro was not here, _Shiro was not here,_ _Shiro is not here,_ **_Shiro is not here._**

Ulaz practically sprinted back to his own room, away from the Black Lion, away from the niggling desire to turn around and ask her to show him more. Because Ulaz was here and Shiro was not, and it hurt and ached and tortured him in all the ways that made him want to tear his skin off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, Ulaz. Things will be better next chapter. And sorry, Hunk and Keith, you guys will get some cuddle time in a future thing I write lol.
> 
> Leave a comment if you liked the fic! :) and follow me on tumblr @ ax100 for shenanigans. (Feel free to message me as well! I love meeting peeps in the fandom hehe)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lies I have told:  
> 1\. "The new chapter is coming next week!"  
> 2\. "Next chapter will be the last!"  
> 3\. "Next chapter will be not as painful, Ulaz!"
> 
> Hey hi hello! Ax here again, coming at you....3 months after I posted the first chapter LOL. So a lot of things have happened since Uliro week last May, including me joining the Uliro server on Discord, traveling, and adulting. Not to mention the SEASON 3 PREMIERE DID U SEE THAT GUYS DID U SEE THAT?!!?! I'm emo.
> 
> Anyway, sorry for how late this is. This story has gotten out of control, I'm telling you. I'm projecting maybe 4-5 more chapters on this thing and a lot of it is new territory to me--well, tbh, writing a multichapter story is new territory for me in itself. Also, I had a really hard time writing this chapter. I've spent maybe 200 hours on this, if MS Word is calculating those edit times correctly. And I'm still??? not?? completely confident in it??? Oh well. I hope it doesn't disappoint too bad.
> 
> In any case, a HUGE THANK YOU to Leap, Curio, and Q for always cheering me on and being my sounding boards when I wake up at 4am thinking, "SNEKBIRB!!!!!!" Thank you to Sass as well for the help with the brain stuff! And to Arka for his wonderful Galra word-making powerzzz
> 
> Disclaimer before we start: I started writing this fic/this chapter before S3 dropped and apparently my understanding of Quintessence was a little off but for the sake of this story, I'm just following with my original conception of it. Also don't take any science you read here as solid facts ahahahaha
> 
> And now I present to you: chapter 2 which is somehow not only twice the length of chapter 1 but also even more sad for all these guys????
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Sleep did not come easily to Ulaz that night.

Not that it did any other night. But while it wasn’t unusual for a steady stream of unsettling thoughts to plague him and delay the onset of an ultimately restless sleep, the disquiet that kept him up tonight was of a different nature. Tonight, a cacophony of noise resounded in his head, tinny in his ears, and the new revelation that should have enlightened him pressed down upon him like a stone, heavy on his chest.

 _Shiro’s Quintessence. It was him, he was **there** , _his mind chanted.

 _No, he’s not. He’s not here,_ he quickly reminded himself as he groaned and shifted yet again to face the wall rather than the ceiling. He screwed his eyes shut even tighter. Sleep. He just wanted to sleep, and forget.

But he couldn’t. Not while his heart was still pounding in his chest and his breath still came out in short pants like he was still running, despite having bowled into his room in a panicked frenzy vargas ago. Not while a prickling itch continued to linger just beneath his skin, one that urged him to go back, to _go back to him—_

He snarled, shooting up and throwing his blanket to the floor.

Lungs burning. Heart hammering. Blood roaring in his ears, a torrential storm in the vacuum silence.

Hands, shaking. He brought them up and buried his face in them. Closed his eyes to shut it all out; he was tired, so very tired.

He forced himself to inhale. Exhale. Inhale again. Exhale once more. Slow, and deep.

Frustration. Frustration bubbling right below the surface.

 

*****

 

Although their search for Shiro implied hope that he was still out there to be found, the Paladins, at Allura’s heartbreaking rationale, had to accept the possibility that their efforts might be in vain. And with or without Shiro, they still had a universe to protect. They still had Voltron to form. And so, with no small amount of reluctance, everyone resigned themselves to Allura’s introduction into their team.

She was a good fighter, much better than any of them—perhaps even all of them combined. But no matter how good she was, that couldn’t compensate for the fact that she was _different._ She was not Shiro, and in the moments that their well-rehearsed dynamics, cultivated over time and through compromise and understanding, came falling apart, they couldn’t help but feel Shiro’s absence all the more. It felt almost like an entire limb had been sawn off and replaced with a new one—foreign, _alien_ —and they had to learn how to live all over again.

The irony was not lost on them. But neither was it appreciated.

“Pidge, behind you!” The warning came too late; with a surprised yelp, Pidge took a direct hit to the back of her knees and she buckled. Before she could hit the floor, the Gladiator spun on its heel, lightning-quick, and slammed the side of its staff right into her stomach. The force sent her sailing across the room, right into Hunk’s side, and the two of them came crashing down. With no one guarding his back, the second Gladiator made easy work of Lance. It swooped in from behind and dug its twin batons into his back. A sickening crackle resounded through the air as electricity coursed through Lance; he cried out in pain before crumpling to the floor with the two others.

“End training sequence,” spoke Coran from beside Ulaz in the control room. Ulaz looked over to him—Coran’s voice was steady but his expression was pinched. The furrow on his brow deepened as the hum of machinery powered down into silence, and the Gladiators clattered to the floor. It was at this moment that Coran caught him looking, but he smoothed the split second of surprise on his face quickly enough. With a sigh, he curled a hand around the microphone hanging in front of his mouth, blocking the sound from getting picked up, and looked back at the sorry lot picking themselves up on the training deck below.

“Perhaps it was too ambitious to think that they could handle two,” he said, the disappointment in his voice clear as day.

Ulaz followed his gaze, but said nothing in return.

 

“Pidge, are you alright?” Allura asked as she rushed over to where Pidge was kneeling, one foot planted on the ground and both hands occupied in trying to push herself up to her feet.

Allura slowed to a stop in front of her and held her hand out.

It was sharply slapped away.

“What the hell was that?!” Pidge yelled, glaring up at Allura, who looked back at her in shock. “You were supposed to have my back!”

Allura gaped at her for a moment, but regained enough composure to give her an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, Pidge. It moved so fast, I didn’t have time to—“

“Never let your guard down!” she spat. In a burst of strength, Pidge hauled herself up to her feet. Even if she only came up to Allura’s chin, that didn’t seem to matter to her. She drew herself up to stand face to face with the Princess, hands curled into tight fists at her side and face twisted in rage.

“That’s what Shiro always said! If this were a real fight, Lance would probably be dead right now!” she shouted, throwing her hand in Lance’s general direction, where he lay on the ground unconscious. Hunk was bent over him, checking for injuries. “We never used to have a problem with this! We used to be able to take two Gladiators on _easily_. But now _you’re_ here and everything’s messed up! This never would’ve happened with Shiro—“

“Pidge!” Keith snapped as he appeared from behind Allura, his voice stern. “Stop it. We’re all trying to get used to this new arrangement, okay? It’s not Allura’s fault. There’s no need to go after her like this—“

“What, like how you went after Hunk?” Pidge retorted. The reaction was immediate, and it obviously hit Keith right where it hurt—his entire body froze, and his expression broke. Even Hunk looked up, wide-eyed and startled at the mention of the fiasco that had happened just a few days before. It was the first time it had been brought up since.

Pidge scoffed, crossing her arms and giving Keith a hard look. “I don’t want to hear it from _you_ , of all people. Stop acting all high and mighty.”

“I…That was…I didn’t…” Keith floundered, his mouth opening and closing, emotions flickering wildly over his face—hurt, anger, shame. Pidge didn’t give him the time to collect himself.

“Some leader you turned out to be,” she said, the words simple and calm and grave, cutting with the precision of a sharpened knife. She turned her back to the group and left, the doors closing behind her with a hiss that felt heavier than it ever had.

 

From up in the control room, Ulaz watched as Hunk picked Lance’s unconscious body up with stiff hands, his back turned towards the others. To the side, Allura lay a hand on Keith’s shoulder, her mouth moving with words too quiet for the microphones to pick up. Keith didn’t seem to hear any of it either.

Ulaz watched as Pidge’s words dug their claws even deeper into Keith, twisting his features until the agony presented itself in its most visceral, corporeal form. He watched as Keith stood there in the middle of a broken team, shaken to its very core, wearing armor that glinted black instead of red in a way that all of them couldn’t accept.

 

*****

 

“I was thinking, do you think the Black Lion could help us?” Lance finally broke the silence one lunch time a few days later.

“What do you mean?” Allura asked as she placed her spoon down. Her plate was still nearly full, even if they were already nearing the end of their meal.

“Okay, so Hunk and I were talking last night,” Lance prefaced. “You remember those times Red would come out of nowhere and save Keith’s butt when he’s in trouble?” Beside him, Keith shot him a pointed look, but said nothing. Although the choice of words was grating, Lance’s tone was serious.

“Yeah?” Pidge spoke up from the far end of the table, away from Allura and Keith, practically hidden behind Hunk’s bulk.

“Allura said each of us has a strong bond with our Lions,” Lance continued. “You think it would be possible for Black to, like, search the universe or something for Shiro? I mean, if Red could find Keith so far away from the Castle, like that time he and Allura ran away, maybe Black could do the same?” he finished with a little note of hope in his voice.

The others were quiet at first, considering. Then, Allura spoke up, “Well, it’s worth a shot.”

           

Discomfort churned quietly in Ulaz’s gut as he and the other inhabitants of the Castle stood some distance behind Keith, watching as he verbally relayed Lance’s idea to the Black Lion. Her eyes were dim, but she was clearly present, listening, as the very air itself in her hangar felt _alive_ , suffused with her aura.

To Ulaz, it was suffocating, and he valiantly fought the urge to turn around and leave, to escape.

 _For Shiro,_ he reminded himself, closing his eyes and taking a steadying breath. He opened his eyes and looked up at her again.

 _What were you trying to do that night?_ he found himself wondering. _What were you trying to get out of me?_

He wasn’t sure if she could sense his thoughts, but if she did, she made no effort to respond. It was both comforting and disconcerting to him that she seemed to take no heed at his presence.

In the end, it didn’t matter either way.

 _For Shiro,_ he decided. For Shiro, he must stay.

Suddenly, the Black Lion’s growl resounded within the chamber, and her eyes lit up a bright gold.

Keith turned towards them, a small smile—now a rarity—on his face. “She agreed,” he said.

 

Vargas passed, during which the others departed, one by one, until the only ones left were Keith and Ulaz. It was well into the Castle’s night cycle now, and neither of them had left even once since the start of this. Hunk and Coran had brought them food earlier after they had skipped out on dinner (Hunk pointedly did not look at or address Keith at all during this time), and Allura had stopped by to check on them before retiring to her quarters. She did not even try to convince them to do the same. She knew they were taking Shiro’s disappearance the hardest among them, and that this was something they needed to do.

Finally reaching the end of his endurance, Ulaz tore his tired eyes away and walked over to where Keith was seated on the floor, cross-armed and cross-legged with his back against the wall. He was seated stock still, regarding the Black Lion with a gaze just as intense as when they had first started. Ulaz sank down next to him, letting out a deep breath. Keith’s eyes darted towards him for a second, but said nothing.

Before them, the Black Lion’s eyes continued to glow gold. Still searching.

Still hoping.

Silence stretched out before them as time slipped by, both too slow and too fast. Seated like this, Ulaz could feel himself flagging, his eyelids slipping closed just a tad bit too long every few blinks. But even in this state, he could tell he was being watched.

From the corner of his eye, he could see the way Keith would occasionally dart his eyes towards him, pursing his lips like he wanted to say something, before looking away again. Keith obviously thought he was being inconspicuous; Ulaz didn’t have the heart to tell him that as a Galra, his range of vision stretched much wider than Keith gave him credit for. And although the scrutiny made him restless, Ulaz decided to wait. His patience was eventually rewarded.

“Ulaz, do you remember that time that I was…going on that rampage?” Keith asked, his quiet voice immediately rousing Ulaz out of his groggy state. Ulaz immediately turned to look at him, but Keith’s own eyes were resolutely glued to a spot on the floor, his back ramrod straight and shoulders tensed. “When I was going after Hunk?” he prompted, as if Ulaz could forget it.

“Yes,” Ulaz replied anyway. “I remember.”

Keith let out a breath, his fingers tapping against his upper arms. “I heard you were the one who knocked me out that time. I just wanted to say…thank you for that.” He looked up at Ulaz, the smile on his face strained, but his body language as a whole sincere nonetheless. His cheeks were slightly pink, a soft flush that extended up to his ears—a sign of many emotions, Ulaz had learned, but in this case seemed to be a manifestation of embarrassment. Or perhaps shame.

Keith’s forced smile thankfully fell away as he began to speak again. “I didn’t…I _don’t_ …” he stumbled over the words, realizing their weight. His brow crinkled and his expression crumbled until he practically looked to be in pain. Faltering, he looked away from Ulaz and back to that same spot on the floor, his jaw clenched tight. Ulaz kept his gaze on the boy, patient, but did not push him.

After a while, the tight grip Keith had on his own upper arms loosened, and he seemed to have calmed down enough now to continue speaking, though the pained expression on his face still remained. “I don’t want to hurt Hunk,” he said, whisper-quiet, almost like it was a confession. “I would never want to hurt any of my friends. It’s just…at the time, I don’t know what came over me. I was just so… _angry._ ”

“You were upset,” Ulaz replied. “And the prefrontal cortex of human brains is notably underdeveloped.”

Keith turned to him, pain now interlaced with confusion. “Is that supposed to mean something?”    

Ulaz blinked slowly in return. Did they not teach these things on Earth? “Among other things, the prefrontal cortex is responsible for the inhibition of impulses,” he explained. “I’ve seen your brain scans. Your amygdala—where fear responses originate—is both more highly-developed and more neurally active than that of your fellow humans. It’s another feature that makes your Galra heritage clear. However, the development of your prefrontal cortex is average for a human of your age.”

Ulaz paused, unsure of how to continue. He offered, though, as some approximation of sympathy, “You couldn’t hold back your emotions, but it is not entirely your fault.”

Keith gaped at him for a moment, like he wasn’t expecting the conversation in this direction, before his mouth snapped closed. “I’m sorry,” he started, his brow furrowing, “But you said fear?”

“Yes, the amygdala regulates the fear response—“

“No, no,” Keith interrupted, shaking his head. “I mean, what does fear have to do with it? I was angry.”

Ah. “Were you?”

Keith gave him a questioning look.

“Aggression is a common defense mechanism against perceived threat,” Ulaz said, carefully weighing each word. “Have you ever observed how a cornered animal will spit and hiss in an attempt to deter its pursuer? It is not that different for you. I believe you when you say you do not actually bear any ill intention towards Hunk.”

When Keith drew his gaze back to the floor, saying nothing, Ulaz chose to press on.

“You are scared.”

A beat of ringing silence, then:

“I’m terrified.”

It was a feeble voice, one Ulaz had never heard Keith use before, as the boy shifted until his knees were tucked against his chest. He rested his crossed arms on top of them, and burrowed his face in the dark little alcove it created, breathing deeply, heaving a heavy sigh.

Ulaz watched the rise and fall of Keith’s shoulders in tandem with his breathing, watched as they gradually built up to hitch around near-silent hiccups, watched as the rhythm evened out again. Through all this, Ulaz bore witness but did not reach out, afraid of overstepping his boundaries even as the smell of salt permeated his senses.

“Before we met you,” Keith started after a long silence, his voice muffled from where his head was still bowed, “We fought Zarkon at his central command center. We never would have made it out alive, if Thace weren’t there.”

Ulaz made a sound of acknowledgement at the mention of his fallen comrade. He didn’t know where this story was going, but continued to listen.

“But that was the least of our worries. Zarkon’s witch, she did something to the wormhole. We were separated. Shiro and I, we ended up on this…barren planet. Just dust and rocks as far as the eye could see.”

Ulaz’s brow furrowed at the vague sense of familiarity the description invoked in him.

“We didn’t land together, and my Lion wasn’t responding. But I knew I had to find him, and fast. He had this huge glowing wound—“

Ulaz’s eyes widened.

“—and when I found him, he was trying to fight off these huge creatures by himself.”

* * *

 

_A Paladin in red armor, running as fast as his feet could carry him to a Lion that was not his own._

 

* * *

 

“I knew I couldn’t take them on by myself either.”

 

* * *

 

 

_An amalgamation of fear and worry swimming in the depths of purple eyes._

 

* * *

 

“So I asked the Black Lion to help me.”

 

* * *

 

 

_“Shiro’s in trouble. We have to help him.”_

 

* * *

 

 

“And she did,” Keith finished. “She let me pilot her.”

“I…I see,” Ulaz said, suddenly feeling like all the air had been stolen from his lungs. The phantom voice of Keith from the vision still echoed in his ears.

“After that, Shiro…he…he said if anything ever happened to him, he wanted me to lead Voltron.”

Ulaz nodded, his heart still thudding in his chest. “That is wise,” he commented.

“No, it’s not!” Keith cried out, whipping his head up so fast he almost lost his balance. His eyes were wide and wild with despair, slightly bloodshot and still glassy with tears held back. Then, as fast as it had happened, he seemed to jolt back to his senses. He settled back down, deflating, looking immediately guilty for his outburst. “I’m sorry,” he said, uncharacteristically demure as he hugged his knees back to his chest, looking anywhere but at Ulaz. “But Shiro was wrong. I can’t lead Voltron. It’s just as Pidge said. I’m no leader. And I’m sure as hell not the kind of leader Shiro was hoping I would be.”

“And what kind of leader would that be?” Ulaz asked evenly.

What was sincerely an honest question was clearly taken as a verbal attack, as Keith flinched, folding into himself as he tightened the grip he had around his legs. His jaw clenched, and the muscles around his eyes constricted as they worked harder to prevent fresh tears from falling.

When Keith answered, his voice wavered and shook like a leaf in the wind. He pointedly did not face Ulaz. “Someone…someone who would know what to do. Would know what to say. Someone who can inspire the people around him.” He paused, then said, softly, “Someone like Shiro.”

Keith pitched his head up to look at the Black Lion, perhaps even addressing her as much as he was addressing Ulaz. “But I’m not Shiro. I can’t be the leader he was. I have no clue what I’m doing, and when people ask me things, I don’t know what to say. I’m just some kid stuck in outer space. But Shiro…”

Keith fell quiet. At the sound of a small sniffle, Ulaz looked over to see tears trickling down the Paladin’s cheeks.

Keith took a deep breath before continuing. “He always knew what to do. Even when I was scared out of my mind, he always had everything under control,” he said, sounding as if his mouth had been stuffed with cotton. “Not just with Voltron. Even when we were back on Earth, Shiro was always there for me. He never gave up on me, even when everyone else had. Even when I had. But now that he’s…gone,” he bit out the phrase with difficulty, “I just feel so lost.”

Keith paused to swipe at the tears with the back of his hand. “We lost him once,” he continued, sounding weary. “On Kerberos.”

“When he was captured,” Ulaz supplied, shame stirring up in his gut.

Keith nodded. “They said he was dead. And all I could think about was how he promised me he would come back. He was so sure, so confident, that it never occurred to me that he might have just said those things so I wouldn’t worry. So when it hit me that he wasn’t coming back, I just…” He sucked in a shaky breath. “I just fell apart.”

He dropped his head down against his arms again. “I can’t lose him again, Ulaz. I need him.”

Ulaz regarded him for a moment. “We all do,” he solemnly agreed.

A long wake of silence stretched out between them once more, only punctuated by an occasional sniffle or rustle of clothes as Keith shifted. He had stopped crying quite a while ago, but his eyes were puffy and his nose and cheeks were a splotchy red. He had returned to sitting cross-legged and cross-armed, but couldn’t seem to bear looking at anything other than the floor. There was something broken and desolate in his expression.

Ulaz was all too familiar with what defeat looked like.

He cleared his throat, which was enough to grab Keith’s attention. Although unfamiliar for the most part with how to comfort him, Ulaz resolved to at least try.

“It is true that you are not Shiro.”

Keith flinched.

“Nor should you try to be him,” Ulaz was quick to amend, turning to face him. “You are not Shiro inasmuch as Shiro is not you, nor you are me, or anyone else for that matter. No one is asking, or even expecting, you to replace him. To attempt to do so would only give you grief. He is irreplaceable.”

Keith nodded in agreement, but looked even more downtrodden than he already had.

“But that doesn’t make you any less of a leader.”

At that, Keith gave pause and looked up at Ulaz. His eyes were pleading.

And Ulaz, on his part, found himself wanting to deliver, to ease the young Paladin’s worries. Humans were delicate, in a sense; misunderstandings and miscommunications between him and the Paladins were commonplace. But if there was ever a time that he needed to be able to accommodate and support them, it was now, in their leader’s—their friend’s—distinct absence.

He drew upon what he knew the most—the quiet moments he had with the human closest to his heart.

 

* * *

 

 

_“How did training with Keith go today?” Shiro asked from where he was seated on Ulaz’s bed, mussing up his damp hair with a towel._

_"He is an excellent fighter,” Ulaz replied as he undid the clasps on his armor. “His technique is rather crude, but he is a fast learner. He is improving more and more each day.”_

_Shiro laughed, beaming. “That’s Keith for you. He’s always been adaptable like that. Made him a force to be reckoned with at the Garrison.”_

_“Is that so?” Ulaz perked up. It wasn’t often that Shiro opened up about his time on Earth—about the institution that sent him into space—so casually._

_"Yeah. They used to say I played favorites, and that I was wasting my time with a kid as temperamental as Keith,” Shiro replied, leaning back on Ulaz’s bed, resting his weight on his hands. “But I handled a lot of students while I was an instructor, and…there was just something about Keith that stood out.”_

_Ulaz turned to him and saw the faraway look in Shiro’s eyes, like he had been transported back to that time._

_Shiro’s smile was soft and fond as he spoke. “He gave a lot of the instructors a hard time, including me. But I saw in him this spark, like a diamond in the rough.”_

_Ulaz cocked an eyebrow up at that. “’A diamond in the rough’?”_

_Shiro laughed. “It’s an expression,” he waved it off. “He’s a little rough around the edges, but from the moment I met him, I knew he had the potential to be great, to do amazing things. And I wanted to help him achieve that.”_

_“He certainly has the tenacity for it,” Ulaz commented._

_“If properly motivated,” Shiro replied. “He has a tendency to get fixated on things.”_

_Ulaz recalled Keith’s trials at the Blade of Marmora headquarters, his unrelenting desire to know more about his past. Much more than the awakening of his blade, it was that drive that proved the boy’s Galra heritage. “Indeed.”_

_“It’s something he needs to improve on,” Shiro said, perhaps a bit sheepishly. “He’s still got some ways to go, but he’s definitely on his way to being a great leader.”_

 

* * *

 

 

 “You are Keith, both Terran and Galra,” Ulaz stated, as steadily as he could. “You are the Red Paladin of Voltron, and my honored brother in the Blade of Marmora.” Ulaz saw Keith’s eyes quickly dart towards the blade that hung on his back, to the handle visible just over his shoulder. “Shiro chose you as his successor, not because he sees you as a copy of himself, but because he saw the potential in you. He recognized your drive and your spirit, and the strength you possess that allows you to support both yourself and others in dire situations.”

Ulaz placed a tentative hand on Keith’s shoulder—a bold move on his part, but Keith did not move to extract it, so he continued.

“You are the Red Paladin, but that does not mean you do not possess the qualities it takes to become the head of Voltron. And the fact that you can fly the Black Lion—that she has accepted Shiro’s choice, has accepted _you_ —proves what Shiro thought all along. You are not Shiro; this much is true,” Ulaz said, resolute, keeping his eyes locked with the young Paladin’s. “You are Keith, and there is no one else you need to be.”

Keith pursed his lips, his jaw quivering slightly. He stared up at Ulaz like he was a beacon, hanging onto his every word he said, as fresh tears welled up in his eyes.

Ulaz retracted his hand and grimaced at what he was about to say, already feeling guilty.  He drew back, saying, “As for Shiro always knowing what to do…”

 

* * *

 

 

_The quiet whoosh of his bedroom door opening immediately woke Ulaz up, and he grabbed the dagger hidden underneath his pillow. He leapt to his feet, brandishing the blade, but stopped in his steps when he was confronted with the sight of Shiro leaning against the door, his arms curled around himself and shivering. The stench of salt accompanied him._

_“Shiro?” Ulaz quietly said, lowering his weapon. “Another nightmare?”_

_Shiro nodded. “I saw them,” he frantically whispered into the still air, “Keith, Lance, Hunk, Pidge—I-I saw them get killed.” He drew further into himself._

_Ulaz stiffened. This dream again._

_“It’s all my fault, Ulaz,” Shiro croaked. “They’re out here because of me. I was the one who got them stuck in outer space. They’re fighting a war that they’ve got nothing to do with, risking their lives every day when they should be back on Earth, studying for tests and enjoying life with their friends and family…” His shaking legs finally gave out underneath him, and Ulaz rushed forward to catch him before he hit the ground._

_Shiro whimpered in his arms, his hands grabbing the soft material of Ulaz’s sleeping shirt. His chest heaved with panting breaths as he continued to ramble in a reedy voice, “I took their future away from them. They could die out here and their loved ones would never know. We might be fighting this war for the rest of our lives. They could die tomorrow and we wouldn’t even have a body to send back, and—oh God, oh God, Ulaz, it’s my fault, it’s all my fault…”_

_Ulaz said nothing in return, knowing full well that whatever he would say would fall on deaf ears. He knew that at this moment, all he could do was stay with Shiro, hold him in his arms and make sure he didn’t hurt himself, until the words bled into silence and exhaustion mercifully claimed him._

 

* * *

 

Ulaz frowned at the memory, and all of the others that played out just like it before he said, quietly, “Unfortunately, it is a leader’s burden to make it appear as such.”

Keith said nothing in reply, and Ulaz, in his concern, turned his attention towards him once more.

What Ulaz said seemed to have sobered Keith up. Tears were still streaming steadily down his face, but save for the occasional sniffle, he had fallen silent. He was clearly pondering Ulaz’s words as he stared with unseeing eyes down at his hands; they were now rested on his lap, and the thumbs circled each other absentmindedly.

“That makes sense,” he quietly concluded after a while, during which his tears had run dry. “That makes a lot of sense.”

Ulaz did not say anything in return. His heart ached for the boy. He was young—barely an adult by human standards, and still well within the age range to be considered a kit by Galra. Shiro had told Ulaz about Keith one night, when the latter had asked.

Ulaz understood that humans were social creatures, just like Galra, but in a different way; humans seemed to hold blood relations in much higher regard. When Shiro spoke about the way that Keith never knew his mother and had lost his father at a young age, it sounded like a tragedy. At first, he could not understand why. Galra raised their offspring collectively as a community; while the loss of a pack member was always tragic, the others would invariably be there to take care of the orphaned kit.

His heart had clenched painfully when he realized it was not the same for humans, as Shiro told him about the way Keith had been passed from family to family. They never kept him around long enough for any real bonds to develop. Keith grew up, but he was never raised.

Until Shiro came into his life, that is. It went without saying, really; Ulaz could see it in their gestures, could hear it in their words—Shiro cared for Keith, and Keith cared for Shiro just as much, perhaps even more, like a parched man given water in a desert.

To lose the one constant he had and then suddenly be forced to take that same person’s place—

“Hey, Ulaz.”

Keith’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts immediately. It was so timid, so small.

Ulaz looked over to see Keith with his head was tilted up, his eyes were staring straight into the Black Lion’s. He had his arms crossed once more, but his back was now slightly hunched, curled in on himself. His knuckles were white where his fingers dug into his arms.

“Do you think…” Keith began, but no continuation came; his mouth hung open as he stared up at the majestic beast, his eyes filled with fear and worry. There was a pinch in how he paused, like the words were perched upon his tongue but restrained, almost as if he was afraid to continue the thought.

Because once he said the words aloud, they would be real, they would be **true**.

\--Yes, Ulaz’s heart ached for the boy indeed.

“Shiro is out there.” The words slipped out before he could stop his heart from admitting its faith, its desire.

Keith’s turned his gaze towards him, surprised, then his expression softened.

 _Please,_ his eyes seemed to tell Ulaz. _Please._

Suddenly, Ulaz’s mouth went dry. A tight feeling began to constrict in his chest as he realized what he had said. But it was too late to take the words back.

“He is out there,” Ulaz repeated with as much false confidence as he could muster, forcing his tongue to move under the weight of uncertainty. “And we are going to find him.”

“We lost him once,” Keith countered weakly.

“And you found him,” Ulaz replied, his stomach churning uncomfortably. “Just like we will find him again.”

He held out his forearm towards Keith, his palm outstretched.

Keith stared at it for a moment, stunned, before looking up at Ulaz’s carefully schooled features. He broke out into a smile then, unaware of the turmoil that swirled within the other, and took the offered arm. He curled his hand around it, and gave a gentle squeeze right at the junction of his elbow.

 _Do not make promises you cannot keep_ , the older members of Ulaz’s pack used to tell him when he was a kit. It was advice he carried on his back to this very day, despite every ‘Vrepit sa’ he hissed out between his teeth while he served under the Empire.

But right now, at this moment, he sent his lamentations up to the stars for those fallen brothers of his, as he squeezed Keith’s arm in return.

“Thank you,” was all Keith said, soft and sincere, as they separated. His eyes were now bright with hope.

Ulaz gave him a curt nod in return. He couldn’t speak over the tightening of his throat, and he worked to swallow down the vile, burning acid that threatened to spill out.

This went unnoticed by Keith, who turned his attention back to the Black Lion. The wrinkles on his brow were completely gone and the tension in his shoulders had finally drained away. The expression on his face was serene and calm, completely at ease. Ulaz couldn’t remember the last time he had seen Keith look so at peace.

Ulaz followed suit. He looked up at golden eyes, blazing bright in a dark world, and ignored the pain that knotted itself tighter and tighter in his stomach.

Time passed, and the world seemed to still. Neither of them said another word.

After a while, Ulaz felt a slight weight slump against his arm. He looked down to see Keith’s head resting against him, his eyes closed and breathing slow. Asleep.

_He has been pushing himself too hard._

Ulaz startled at the Black Lion’s voice. A chill ran through him, like cold lightning shooting down his spine.

Immediately, he was overtaken by the urge to run away, to remove himself from this situation as fast as he could. She was an enigma to him, a being he just couldn’t understand—didn’t want to understand. He did not want to be here with her; he did not want to hear her voice. He was not her Paladin; he shouldn’t have been able to have this connection with her. The back of his neck prickled with the fear that she would show him these visions, and flood his veins with the essence of a phantom once more.

She waited for him to answer, expectant. Panic ran through him, an itch reborn just beneath the surface of his skin. But he knew his duty, knew that any show of weakness would be unacceptable. Despite the quaking of his heart, he tried to quash out the fears, or at least hide them behind a false show of bravado.

 _As your Paladin, he carries a great burden on his shoulders,_ he replied as steadily as he could. There was a prickle of a feeling he couldn’t quite identify, and he realized with absolute, gut-clenching certainty that their minds were melded, and he could feel her just as much as she felt him.

 _Run away,_ his body screamed, _run away._ But he fought against the burning pull of his muscles, and slowly, steadily, shifted his position to take Keith into his arms. He slipped one arm under the boy’s knees, and tucked the other under his back. Ulaz stood up carefully, and Keith’s head rolled to lean further into his chest, a sleepy groan escaping his throat.

On stiff legs, Ulaz started to make his way towards the doors of the hangar—slowly, because he was not afraid, despite the shivers slithering down his spine—as he cradled the young Paladin in his arms. _There are a few more vargas before daybreak,_ he told her, _I will take him to his room. He will rest better there._

_And you?_

He froze in his steps. It was a simple question, but he recognized it for what it was. She could feel his panic, and was giving him a chance to do what his instincts were screaming for him to. He was almost dizzy with it, and perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad to follow through. He didn’t want to stay here with her, not by any means, not by any measure.

And yet.

And yet, as much as he did not want to stay with her—this being he had no right to be connected to in this manner—he knew his duty. _…I will return,_ he decided, as he resumed his departure, jostling Keith up higher in his grip.

 _You must rest,_ she urged.

He couldn’t. He couldn’t rest until this was over. _For Shiro,_ he reminded himself—reminded _her—_ as he continued to make his way out. He was almost at the button panel right beside the door when the Black Lion finally said:

_I am not your enemy, Ulaz._

He stiffened.

Suddenly, all he could hear was the blood roaring through his veins, the pounding of his heart in the damn near silent chamber. And it echoed, echoed all around him in a never-ending cacophony of noise, a barrage tinny in his ears, the same one that kept him awake at night with whispered promises of Shiro being there when he wasn’t, he really wasn’t—

He gasped and lurched forward as the Black Lion touched her consciousness upon his. Like a lifeline in a violent storm, it pulled him back, reeled him in until he could feel who he was again. Her presence was warm, comforting in a way that danced upon a line of familiarity. Ulaz wondered how much of this Quintessence was hers, and how much of it was of her Paladin’s.

He blinked back into the present; the floor was cold beneath his feet, and Keith was warm in his arms, asleep. The Black Lion’s hangar was blessedly quiet, and the very air felt alive with her presence.

Ulaz struggled to get his ragged breathing back under control, his wheezing far too loud and far too out of place. But gradually, it evened out to deep breaths as he sighed out his exhales.

A wave of reassuring energy lapped at him, tentative. _Rest,_ the Black Lion whispered into his mind. _I will find him for you._

He turned around to face her. In the dim light of the hangar, so deep within the Castle that no sound could be heard, the Black Lion’s eyes still shone bright gold.

Still searching.

Still hoping.

 _“I trust you,”_ he told her in Old Galra.

And almost as if in gratitude, the energy she sent out arced up and around him. It felt like the way Shiro used to embrace him, warm and comforting. Ulaz took a deep breath and allowed it to surround him; perhaps if he tried, he could breathe in this peace, and make it a part of himself.

He turned to face the hangar doors, her presence still flowing around him like the gentle lapping of waves upon his feet. He punched in the number code and made his exit. To his surprise, the energy continued to follow him as he walked down these empty halls, but it was far from unwelcome. It accompanied him as he approached the wing where the Paladins’ quarters were located.

He stood in front of the door to Keith’s room, hearing the sound of Hunk’s snoring in the distance. He offhandedly wondered if Pidge was in her own room, but quickly figured that she had probably fallen asleep in the Green Lion’s hangar, which happened more and more often in recent times.

“Keith,” Ulaz said softly, gently shaking the Paladin awake in his arms. It took a few more tries before Keith slowly blinked his eyes open, and stared blearily up at Ulaz.

“Ulaz?” he asked, his voice rounded and groggy.

“You fell asleep downstairs,” Ulaz explained slowly. “I’ve brought you back up to your room. You will rest better here.”

Keith made a sour face at that, but he continued to blink in and out of sleep in Ulaz’s arms. “Can’t,” he argued, “Gotta…gotta find Shiro.”

Ulaz’s heart clenched in sympathy. Then, he said, “The Black Lion will find him. Do not worry.”

A fresh wave of warmth passed over him. Ulaz wondered if Keith could feel it too.

Keith, however, didn’t comment. He looked up at Ulaz with sleepy eyes. “Okay,” he said, seemingly contented with the answer. “You’re right.”

Ulaz lowered Keith to the ground and looked away as Keith entered the code to his room. When he heard the door slide open, he looked back. Keith was staring at him with an amused quirk to his lips.

“My code is 7241, and then the symbol that looks like an S with two dots,” he said. “You’re welcome to come in any time, Ulaz.”

Ulaz didn’t say anything for a moment, too stunned to react, but he quickly gathered his wits and nodded. _“Mahl-zirti,”_ he said, bowing his head. It was a word rarely used now, one used to convey the deepest, most heartfelt gratitude. His tongue tingled with the vestiges of the rarely-used syllables, almost foreign in their disuse.

Keith seemed to understand the sentiment all the same, as his surprised look morphed into a small smile. He turned stepped inside his room. “Good night, Ulaz,” he said.

“Good night, Keith,” Ulaz replied. The door slipped closed with a quiet hiss.

Ulaz turned away and began walking towards his own room. He slowed to a stop in front of the door beside Keith’s. It was a room he was intimately familiar with, just as much as its inhabitant was familiar with his own. He pressed his palm against the smooth, cool metal.

The Black Lion’s sympathies and promises washed over him.

He pulled his hand away from the door and continued to walk, until he arrived back at his room in the other wing of the Castle.

He stepped inside, and the door closed behind him. Just the night before, the vacuum silence in his room was unbearable. But now, as he stripped off his armor, piece by careful piece, and laid upon his bed, he felt an odd sense of calm. As if the demons that plagued him had been laid to rest in the face of a majestic beast.

Sleep did not come easily to Ulaz that night either, but he rested a bit better, as waves upon waves of reassuring energy washed over him, like the ebb and flow of the tide.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> U MADE IT!!! CONGRATS
> 
> also: hell yea i love callbacks
> 
> So, yeah! I hope you enjoyed that. Please leave a comment below on what you thought of this chapter or what you think of the story so far. Comments truly are the lifeblood of a writer and more comments means you probably won't have to wait another 3 months for the next chapter :P
> 
> If you want to chat with me or yell about Voltron, hmu @ ax100 on tumblr :)
> 
> Till next time!!


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